


If Any Person Present

by butterflymind



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflymind/pseuds/butterflymind
Summary: Several interruptions to a wedding.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71
Collections: Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020





	If Any Person Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



> This is both irredeemably silly and irredeemably soppy. I regret nothing.

**1\. Old Friends**

Zolf had seen an avalanche once. He had been a long way away, a bit of shore leave from his ship and he and some of the crew found themselves in a town with the sea on one side, and a distant mountain range on the other. It had been strangely silent at first, the sound taking longer to reach them than the sight of a great shelf of mountain snow falling away. Zolf had been impressed by the inevitability of it, the way the gathering slide of snow had come down the mountain in an unstoppable torrent, engulfing everything into itself.

Over the last few months, Zolf had come to the conclusion that planning a wedding bore a more than passing resemblance to that avalanche. The path that had lead him to this moment had seemed just as inevitable, and had swept up all aspects of life within it. He wondered if that was why so many people chose great swatches of white silk for their wedding clothes. The avalanche made flesh. His wandering thoughts were drawn back to the present by Oscar gently, lovingly, standing on his foot. The magical leg let him appreciate the sensation in full, and he stopped meandering and listened intently, suddenly unsure where they were in the ceremony. It was Oscar’s fault, if he hadn’t insisted they rehearse this so thoroughly, treating it like a performance, then he wouldn’t have heard it ten times before. He had almost blurted out ‘I will’ by reflex, and was glad he hadn’t when he realised they hadn’t reached that part yet. 

“If any person present knows of any just cause…” Right, yes, they were just reaching the line about just causes and impediments. That was good, he hadn’t missed anything of importance. He caught Oscar’s eye and they grinned at each other, Oscar biting his lip to keep from laughing. They had spent a long drunken evening, hiding from Azu and Hamid and yet more wedding planning, coming up with increasingly ridiculous answers to the question. Zolf schooled his features into seriousness, and gave Oscar a stern look, as the priest continued.

“Let them speak now or forever hold their peace.” The silence was surprisingly tense, given no one was expecting an interruption. The priest was obviously counting the seconds, waiting to continue, but just as he raised his hands to continue the ceremony a voice at the end of the hall stopped everything dead.

“Wotcha.” It said. “What’s going on here then?” Every head in the room snapped round at the sound. Zolf didn’t recognise the goblin stood there, but he didn’t need to. The reactions of Hamid, Azu and Oscar told him everything he needed to know. There was a moment where everything stood suspended, then Hamid leapt up, raced towards Grizzop and threw his arms around him.

“How did you?” He started, then stopped, then started again. “We thought we’d never see you again.” He leaned back, taking in Grizzop’s face critically. “How long has been for you? Is Sasha with you? What happened?”

“Hi Hamid.” A shadow in the corner of the temple said. It moved and resolved into Sasha, and now Zolf was running down the aisle, Oscar and Azu close behind him. “Told you it would work.” Sasha said to Grizzop over Hamid’s head, just before she was engulfed by Azu. Zolf hung back a bit, suddenly unsure of his reception. Oscar stood just behind him, warm at his back.

“Hi Zolf.” Sasha said casually when Azu had been convinced to put her down. “What are you up to?”

“That might take some explaining.” Zolf said a little sheepishly, looking at Oscar.

“How long have you been away?” Hamid asked again, having given Grizzop over to Azu.

“Six months. Or two thousand years. It sort of depends on your perspective.” Grizzop said. At that moment there was a crash from outside the temple and speech, harsh and angry, filtered through the doors.

“That’s Latin.” Oscar said, taken aback. Grizzop and Sasha exchanged a look.

“Might have worked a bit too well.” Grizzop said, already drawing his bow. He looked briefly to Zolf. “Nice to meet you. Are you any good in a fight?” In response Zolf reached behind a statue and removed the glaive Oscar had tried to stop him bringing to the wedding. It blazed as soon as it touched his hand, and Grizzop grinned, all teeth.

“Bring it on.” Zolf said.

* * *

****

**2\. Old Acquaintances**

If he had thought arranging a wedding was bad, it had not held a candle to re-arranging one. Zolf was overjoyed that Sasha was back, and happy to have got to know Grizzop, if for nothing else then for the expression on Oscar’s face whenever he saw them together. But he had, in his darker moments, wondered if they couldn’t have delayed their return by a day, so all this would have been done and dusted.

“We don’t have to do this.” Oscar said, after one of his longer complaints. “If you don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to. I just want it to be done already.” That had made Oscar’s face light up in a way that still pulled at Zolf’s heart and probably always would, and that was that planning session at an end.

But against all the odds here they were again. They had been asked to change location, the temple strangely unwilling to let them stage another wedding so soon after they had finished paying for the damage caused by the interruption to the first one. This time everything was a little simpler, a little more rushed in the arrangements, but Zolf thought that if anything, it had improved things. And Sasha was here, albeit somewhat uncomfortable and in the seat that offered the best compromise between the shadows of the pillars and the door. He couldn’t really complain about that. Zolf took a deep breath as the ceremony started. Not so rehearsed this time, but then it wasn’t as if they hadn’t had a dry run. 

“If any person here knows of any just cause or impediment…” The priestess stopped. Everyone stopped. Zolf turned, with a grim feeling of inevitability, and looked towards the back of the church. Two very well dressed gnomes were there, advancing from the doorway with perfect synchronisation. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Zolf muttered at the same time as Hamid gave a little cry of surprise and Grizzop a growl of recognition. Sasha had melted into the shadow of the pillars the second the two had appeared.

“Oscar Wilde?” Enquired the gnomes politely. Oscar’s head jerked up.

“Yes.” Zolf automatically went to position himself in front of him, but Oscar gently but firmly held him to the side with one arm.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?”

“We have spent some time trying to locate you Mr Wilde.” They were far too composed to sound frustrated, but the edge of something was there.

“I like to move around. And there was a war on.” 

“We have important business to contract with you.”

“Could it wait?” Oscar gestured to Zolf, and then the crowd at large. “I am a little busy.”

“I am afraid that now we’ve found you, we must conclude our business.” The gnomes replied, and they only sounded a little pleased at the prospect. “In case you should happen to disappear again.”

“I could leave you a forwarding address?” Oscar offered weakly.

“Just get on with it.” Zolf growled. Oscar offered him a hopeless look, and Zolf shrugged. He’d been through this before, knew that when it came to these lawyers there was no way out but through. One of the gnomes pulled a sheaf of papers from his jacket. It was dispiritingly thick, although it had not distorted by one inch the line of his suit.

“Our business concerns the last will and testament of Sir Bertrand MacGuffingham.”

“What?” Hamid made a faint noise from the congregation. 

“Bertie?” Oscar asked, looking perplexed.

“If he wasn’t already dead…” Zolf muttered, hand reaching for an invisible weapon.

“One of his instructions was that this letter be delivered to you upon his death.” 

“Let’s have it then.” Oscar said, holding out a hand.

“And that it be read to you in his own voice.” The gnomes continued serenely.

“Oh Gods.” Oscar said, going pale. There were a selection of protests from members of the congregation who had known Bertie, or had heard of him from secondary sources. But before anyone could mount a decent interruption the gnomes had passed a hand over the letter.

“OSCAR!” The voice boomed around the upper reaches of the Temple’s vaulted ceiling and then crashed back down again. 

“Perhaps we should go?” Hamid said, already edging toward the door.

“No!” Sasha and Cel said almost in unison. “I want to see what happens.”

They didn’t finish the wedding. The Priestess had other things to do that day, and it turned out even the most Godly could run out of patience while listening to the third hour of ranting from a deceased and somewhat deranged aristocrat. The gnomes insisted on waiting out the whole thing, but the congregation gradually drifted away, until it was just the core of the group.

“He had a lot to say, didn’t he.” Said Azu diplomatically when the letter finally finished.

“Always.” Zolf said shortly. “Hamid, do me a favour and set that thing on fire.”

“Do you really think we should?” Zolf gave him a look and Hamid hurriedly willed the papers into flames.

“Right, well, better luck next time.” Zolf patted Oscar on the back, then when he refused to move or acknowledge the gesture, slung his arm over his shoulders and lifted him to his feet. “We’re going home.”

* * *

**3\. Old Bosses**

There was a dragon outside the temple. There were also a large number of screaming people, but the dragon did not seem particularly bothered by them. He’d probably seen a lot of screaming people in his time, it wasn’t anything new. Since the fall of the meritocrats the location and even survival of the dragons had been a subject of much public discussion. ‘Well,’ Zolf thought, peering out from behind the temple doors, at least they knew where one of them was now.

“You invited Apophis to our wedding?” He hissed at Oscar from across the doorway.

“No! We invited Saira to our wedding.” Oscar hissed back. “It just didn’t occur to me that she would bring a plus one.”

“It’s the sort of thing ex-colleagues do isn’t it?” Said the dragon ponderously from outside the door. “Attend weddings?”

“Perhaps a little more warning would have been helpful.” Oscar shouted back.

“That would have ruined the surprise.”

“Look, I know you wanted to make a big entrance back into the world.” Said Zolf, losing what remained of his temper. “Well done, I think everyone has noticed that a Meritocrat is back, but could perhaps not have done it at our wedding?”

“If you think this is about you, Dwarf, you are very much mistaken.” There was a lick of flame about the words. Zolf either didn’t notice, or was too irritated to care. He went to open the door, and Oscar caught him by the collar of his shirt.

“Do not get toasted on our wedding day.” He said, holding him back. “At least not before the ceremony, I can’t inherit yet.” Zolf twisted in his grip, ready to say something, then caught the look on his face and stopped, shoulders dropping.

“Shall I go and speak to him?” Hamid asked. Zolf was about to refuse on a reflex, then remembered. He looked at Hamid properly; there were wings fading into the air behind him, everything about him becoming sharper.

“What a good idea.” Oscar said and stepped back, dragging Zolf with him. Hamid walked out of the doors, back ramrod straight. Apophis looked at him consideringly, then said something in the guttural language of the dragons. Hamid replied, and dipped his head slightly, acknowledging something the dragon had said.

“I’m afraid you’re running out of time gentlemen.” The priest spoke from behind them. His eyes were flicking between their faces and the dragon outside. “Maybe we should conclude this another day?”

“Why not now?” Zolf asked, finding a new target for his irritation. The Priest gestured wordlessly between them, and the dragon outside.

“It’s just there’s another booking this afternoon.” He said, a little tremulous now a direct confrontation was in the offing.

“Zolf, these probably aren’t the best circumstances.” Oscar said gently. “And we’re getting good at trying again.”

“That’s not the convincing argument you think it is.” Zolf grumbled, but he looked defeated.

“So you’ll go?” The Priest asked, trying not to sound too eager. “And you’ll take….” He paused and gestured outside. “That, with you?”

“We’ll go.” Oscar confirmed. “But that…” He gave Apophis the evil eye, safe in the knowledge he was hidden behind the door, “will have to leave of his own accord.”

“Before he goes, do you think he’d mind me asking about the whole fire generation thing? I mean the mechanics of it from an alchemical perspective are just fascinating.” Cel spoke up from where they had been watching the dragon with wide eyed curiosity.

“You should ask him.” Oscar said, then thought about it. “Or, maybe ask Hamid to ask him.” Cel grinned a megawatt smile, and trotted happily out of the door.

“Is that a good idea?” Zolf asked. Oscar smiled.

“It will amuse him.” 

“Well, as long as he’s in a good mood.”

“Indeed.” Oscar agreed, perfectly seriously. 

In the evening everyone agreed that although two weddings and a market day had to be abandoned due to acts of dragon, the display of a Meritocrat and sorcerer breathing fire while an excited alchemist measured lengths and temperatures was better than any fireworks. 

* * *

**4\. Older Bosses**

“Let them stop us this time.” Zolf said grimly. It was perhaps not the ideal words to be uttered by a man reaching the altar at his own wedding, but understandable given the circumstances. And there wasn’t an altar exactly. ‘We’ve learnt our lesson about temples’ Oscar had said when they’d told the assembled congregation where to be and when. Something simple, something outdoor, something that meant something but couldn’t be closed down by afternoon bookings or destroyed by unexpected battles. Now the sea was crashing gently at the bottom of the cliffs, at the place they had first landed back in England after the war. The sun was shining and the water as still, and Oscar was busy smiling at everything and everyone. Zolf was almost glad for the last three failed attempts. This felt more right than any stuffy temple of a God he didn’t serve.

“Are we ready to begin?” It had taken some persuasion to get Azu to agree to do this. Her protestations that she was a Paladin, not a priestess, were eventually overcome by the irrefutable Sasha logic that if Aphrodite had wanted them married by a priest in a temple, she would probably have stepped into at least one of the last three disasters. 

“Let’s do it, before something else goes wrong.” Zolf said. Azu looked mildly disapproving, but continued anyway.

“My friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two people.” She began. “This is a union in the sight of all of us, and in the sight of Aphrodite, who blessed the first love and gave us her gifts to demonstrate how our love for her, and for each other, can make even death flee before it.” Sasha gave Azu a little grin and thumbs up at that. Azu didn’t pause, but a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “Before we can begin I must ask if any person here present knows of any reason why these two may not be married?” She paused. Zolf looked up into Oscar’s face, expecting to see laughter, and realised instead that his focus had shifted, from Zolf to a point just over his shoulder. He turned to look. The sea, which minutes ago had been millpond calm, was beginning to churn, a deep dark shape forming in the water.

“Oh for fuck’s sakes.” Zolf muttered. He was half expecting a giant squid, but instead the water itself took on the shape of a man, fifty feet tall, with water cascading around him and the sea below dipping into huge swirling whirlpools as he moved.

“ZOLF SMITH.” The voice wasn’t quite a voice, but it was unmissable nonetheless, a wall of sound that crashed into them like a tidal wave hitting the shore.

“Go away. I’m not yours anymore.” Zolf shouted back, his words ripped away by the vicious wind that had suddenly sprung up. “This is nothing to do with you.”

“Wow.” Sasha muttered to Cel, who was watching the whole scene with wide eyed fascination. “This is even worse than when Wilde’s ex boss turned up.”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR GOD LIKE THAT.”

“I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. And you’re not my God.” Zolf replied.

“And I’ve bested scarier Gods than you.” Grizzop had suddenly appeared at Zolf’s side, bow out and drawn and flaming with holy fire. 

“I’m not sure how much good that will do.” Oscar said, and both Grizzop and Zolf spared a moment to turn and tell him to shut up.

“I AM SCARED OF NO MORTAL CREATURE.” If anything, the figure seemed to become taller, although that may have been the effect of it moving rapidly towards the shore.

“But what of your own kind?” This was a new voice. It felt like the warmth of spring over them and the figure stopped, shocked into stillness.

“APHRODITE?”

“You seem to be interfering in my business Poseidon.” She was a figure in and of the air, made by the bending of light and breezes, rising from the sea. “And I’ll thank you not to address me in that tone.”

“Apologies.” The voice became the gentle lapping of spilling waves at the shore. “But I hardly think you can claim the sanctity of marriage under your purview.”

“Marriage is love, and I am love.”

“Love breaks marriages, as you well know.” The warmth of spring was becoming a hot desert heat, and they all began to shift uncomfortably. Azu was watching with a fixed expression of rapturous delight, and when Grizzop tugged on her to move in the same direction as the rest of the congregation, away from the cliffs and the argument in progress, she did not seem to notice.

“I paid dearly to release Ares thanks to your type of love.” Poseidon’s voice was becoming harder, and the sea was whipping up again, reaching to bring the goddess into its depths.

“And I returned the favour by bearing your children.” Aphrodite returned, her tone equally hard. The sea was rising higher now, but she rose with it, reaching the towering head of the water God.

Grizzop tugged harder on Azu, and when that didn’t work he scampered up to her shoulder and shouted directly in her ear.

“We have to go!”

“But she’s here.” Azu said dreamily.

“And we won’t be in a minute if you don’t move!” Grizzop tweaked Azu’s ear, which finally seemed to get her attention. She blinked, watching the wind and the water rise up against each other, then turned and ran, Grizzop gripping tightly to the collar of her robe. Behind them the cold sea met the warmth of love, and boiled.

* * *

**5\. The Story To Be Told**

It didn’t matter where, or when, or who officiated Zolf decreed. This time it was going to happen. Guests were an optional extra, uninvited ones a definite no. The fewer of them there were, the fewer things could go wrong he decided. Oscar briefly considered mentioning that it had not been the number of guests that had been the problem in any of their previous attempts, but one look at Zolf’s face told him that this would have been one of those missteps that would result in no wedding at all.

They had gathered them in their own house this time, just those who had seen everything in their lives already. Azu had once again agreed to preside, more eagerly now she knew with what destructive fervour her Goddess approved of the marriage. Zolf was fidgeting, not quite comfortable standing up in front of everyone, despite the excessive amount of practice he had. It was not helping that Oscar would not settle, hopping gently from foot to foot and eyeing the door.

“Calm down.” Zolf muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Nearly there.”

“We’ve been nearly there every time.” Oscar returned. Suddenly his spine straightened. “Oh no.” He breathed, looking over Zolf’s shoulder.

“What? What is it now?” Zolf turned to look, craning his neck to see better through the picture window. It was, as far as he could see, the same as ever, a glimpse of hedge and the road beyond. He turned back to Oscar. “What did you see?” He demanded. Oscar just shook his head, and turned slightly to face Azu, as if ready to begin the service. Zolf followed his eyes automatically.

It was not Azu standing there. Instead she had been replaced by a short human man, who looked as if he was perpetually slightly out of place. Zolf recognised him immediately.

“Harrison Campbell.” He breathed, his eyes going wide. Oscar grinned.

“Glad you could make it.” He said to Campbell. “I was beginning to get a bit worried.”

“Oh, transport, you know. Takes me an age to get anywhere now I have to avoid airships. And trains.” Zolf looked about to say something to that but Harrison held up his hands, obviously keen to avoid any further conversation about it. “Shall we begin?” He held up a piece of paper. “I’ve been practising my lines all the way down here.”

“Practising what lines?” Zolf asked, but Harrison just grinned.

“My friends.” He said warmly, relaxing into the words like an actor into a part. “We are gathered here today…” Zolf held up a hand to stop him.

“You got Harrison Campbell to officiate our wedding?” Oscar was still grinning back at him, and from behind them Azu gave a snort of suppressed laughter.

“With a little help, yes.” He held out a hand and Zolf took it, the gesture as automatic as breathing. “Shall we get on with it then?”

“Yeah. OK.” Zolf breathed, still wide eyed. He nodded to Harrison, who smiled in return.

“As I was saying. My friends, we are gathered here today…”

Later, once vows had been made and rings exchanged and most importantly several body weights consumed in alcohol, Harrison Campbell sat slightly muzzily in a chair, watching these people drink and dance. The halfling in particular seemed a demon on the improvised dance floor, and had cleared a space around in him in which he moved like liquid fire.

“That was lovely.” A voice behind him, the Orc Azu, who had taught him the service before they left London.

“Thanks to your instruction.” He said and raised his glass to her. She responded in kind, with a glass that was evolving alcohol fumes almost thick enough to see. She was looking across the room to where the couple sat, Oscar on a chair and Zolf on a table that put him just above his husband, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as they talked. “Do you think they will be happy?”

“They are happy.” Azu said firmly. “They’re not the sort of people who could have got this far if they weren’t.”

“As I hear it, it took them a couple of tries.” He had heard the story over dinner from Grizzop and Cel, who had seemed to delight in trying to outdo each other in the telling of it.

“Well, that was hardly their fault.” Azu replied. “And they persevered.”

“Maybe I should write a book about them.” Harrison mused. “Five weddings and several near funerals.”

“If you do, don’t tell them until you’ve done it.” Azu advised. Harrison shuddered.

“But of course, the last thing I need is editing notes from Oscar Wilde.”

“I think it’s Zolf you should be more worried about.” She said. “He has very strong opinions.”

“Well, I wish Oscar luck with that then.” Harrison said, and raised his drink again. “To the happy couple.” He toasted. Azu smiled, and clinked her glass against his.

“To the happy couple.” She agreed. “And to the rest of us, as well.”


End file.
